Always at Her Mercy
by Sithstrukk
Summary: You can't trust the Sith; because they trust no one. And trusting that they will be there for you is asking them to show you mercy. He was always at her mercy; whether he knew it or not.


**I don't own Star Wars.**

A scene of chaos met the sleek ship as it twisted out of hyperspace.

A fleet of fully armed, illegal pirate vessels had laser cannons charged. Their leader, the enemy of the woman on the emerging ship, wore a smile laced with malice. An onlooker would be reminded of a group of cats prowling towards a mouse.

The solitary ship's sensors detected the invaders in less than a second. Simultaneously, an alarm echoed across the cabins; jolting the only passengers out of light sleep.

"It's an armed group of outer-rim pirates; almost big enough to be a fleet," Rawlin, the pilot, assessed from the bedside computer. "You know anything about them?"

Zannah did not move. Rawlin assumed he had his answer; she had no idea why they were being ambushed. "We will fire back," she replied silkily.

"They aren't firing at us," Rawlin said quickly. Zannah glared at him, but bit her lip to avoid giving him an angry reply. Instead she crawled off the bed and started to quickly dress. Rawlin did the same. A short time later they were both strapped to their seats in the ship's cockpit.

"They've got everything locked on to us, but they haven't started firing," Rawlin reported as he activated the only protective shield the ship had.

"They're waiting for us to make the first move," Zannah told him softly. There was spite in her voice, but Rawlin knew it was all directed at the oncoming ships, not his own shortcomings.

"…And we will fire first," She was saying. She did not need to be reminded that the ship's laser cannons were hopeless. Her hope gave Rawlin hope.

False, empty hope.

"Will we… make it?" Rawlin dared to ask, his confidence ebbing. Zannah was stoically silent, giving no hint to a response. Surely, she had a strategy?

And it would be revealed, in its own time.

Rawlin keyed in the controls that would fire a volley of lasers. They fired in sequence; two hits and a miss. But the blows did minimum damage to the Lead's hull.

As soon as their ship fired, blasts from all the enemy ships came out them like relentless boxer punches.

"Shields!" Zannah screamed, but it was too late. The shields were already destroyed, and fire was engulfing the ship. The lights flashed red.

"Shields are down!" Rawlin wiped his sweat-beaded brow.

"Fire," Zannah ordered. With shaking fingers, Rawlins rushed to obey. At least their cannons were still intact…

"They've thrown out the main canon!" Rawlin didn't try to keep hysteria out of his voice. Zannah simply frowned. Rawlins stared at her, stunned. Wasn't she worried? They were in this together-weren't they?

Another blast shook the ship, and the cockpit nearly shattered. Flames digested much of the console. Zannah's face was pale and calm as she plunged out of the cabin, screaming, "Keep firing!" Above the alarms.

Rawlin used the still-functioning canons. "Where are you going?" He roared.

"_I said to keep firing!_" Zannah shrieked as the telltale beep and flash of lights signaled their only escape pods being jettisoned.

_Their _escape pods.

Rawlins continued to steer what remained of the ship's carcass as he fought for breath, hollering, "You're blocking our escape!"

Zannah reappeared, soot and blood from light wounds caking her face. There was an aura of something sickening and dark surrounding her. It made Rawlin want to die. Something so desolate and painful it sucked the will to live out of him.

"No," She said, "I'm blocking _your_ escape."

His heart plunged into his stomach as realization overcame him. Realization that, after all this time together, she was just as vile as he first thought.

Nothing had changed. He was used, and now at her mercy on a dying ship.

"So I'll keep firing," he said weakly, in desperation.

"Until I'm out of range," Zannah commanded. She rushed out of the room, ignoring the cries Rawlin himself was ignoring.

Rawlin fell silent. He starting setting the course for hyperspace, though he knew it was in vain. On the console, the last escape pod light blinked. He was now truly alone.

But he had always been.

**Ah. How I love a happy ending. Moral of this story: Don't date a Sith.**

**Moral of this author's note: Reviews are always appreciated.**


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